Yesterday was fantastic.
I headed downtown for class feeling less than stellar because I hadn't slept too well the night before. However, as usual class was lots of fun, so I was feeling much more chipper when three gals and I headed out to find a new restaurant for lunch. We fell upon the mecca of cute--a little coffee shop that served a very tasty cheese ddokboki for less than $4 and was, apparently, THE hot spot for high school students on first dates. It was rather silly.
Then I set off with Tracey on my mission to find a stylish winter coat. You see, I brought my ski coat, which has been fine for warmth, but when I go out in it, I feel dumpy and uncool. I miss my red coat, but it had outlived its time. Tracey was kind in showing me around to some of the cute, trendy downtown shops that weren't too expensive. I saw quite a few things I liked--a sweatshirt that said "New Yorker, Garden State" in a green shade, for example--but the trouble is that I am not built like a Korean woman. Or even close to it. Thanks to the 80s trend here, many of the styles were floaty around the hips so they fit my curves, but I still have shoulders and boobs. Apparently women aren't supposed to have either, you see. So nothing fit. I even went to the department stores where things were majorly overpriced.
I was just about to give up, when I wandered into a store next to Kyobo bookstore and saw a minuscule section labeled "Big Size." I found a cute black coat in what would be a US size medium that fits well and makes me feel much happier wandering around downtown. I decided to reward my good shopping day with a caramel macchiato from the Kyobo Starbucks and reading a bit of my next book for the bookclub (I'm already in love with Marquez).
But, when I got there, I happily ran into two students in the advanced class, a teacher named Trey from Atlanta and a Japanese student named Yumiko. Trey has been here awhile and was introducing Yumiko to a Japanese friend of his, Yoshi, who's been a professor here for about 6 years. It turned out that Yumiko and Yoshi are from the same small region in Japan, so they were having a blast chatting in Japanese with their local accents. I had a fine conversation with Trey in the meantime; he may even join the book club!
Trey had another engagement, so I went to dinner at The Holy Grill with Yumiko and Yoshi, both of whom speak near to fluent English and Korean, so we had a lot of fun. The Skins game was on the TV, which was a little surreal. The food was great (again). I tried their chocolate cheesecake; it was heavenly. We had a good time talking and Yumiko agreed to meet up with David from the beginner class later that night (this took some convincing because she lives in a dorm with a curfew). And apparently Yoshi's a popular guy around the expat community because he seemed to know everyone, including the owner of The Holy Grill, so I chatted with a bunch of different people over the evening.
The it was off to find David and the birthday party, but first stopping by to see Yumiko's boyfriend, a Korean student studying Japanese who works part time for one of the handphone companies. We got lost a couple times because her sense of direction is worse than mine, but we met him and the conversation turned Korean because while he speaks Japanese and they speak English, Korean was the only language we all could sort of understand each other in... Oh my!
At Thunderbird's for the birthday party, I met some awesome people, including another girl from Maryland, and ran into a bunch of people I'd met before in various circumstances. Then we got the strong urge to dance, so it was off to Club Frog, or as I like to call it, the place you're likely to get pregnant without removing any clothing. I danced my little heart out. And then Yumiko's boyfriend got tired, so they left and Frog was giving me a headache so Yoshi and I headed to Bubble. Bubble had a lot more room to dance, so I broke out my inner PG county and lost 3 kgs in sweat alone. This was confirmed on the scale this morning. I was impressed with Yoshi's ability to keep up with my dancing (I don't meet many men who can do that, so I usually tone it down to make them feel better...).
We bid adieu at 3 am.
As he put it, sometimes you've just gotta dance it all out.
Dance it all out, everybody.